


Rules To Using Knives

by merlywhirls



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Agender Suzuya, Canon Trans Character, M/M, im not happy with the ending so i might change that tomorrow rn i need sleep, post-auction raid, talk of top surgery, this has been a wip forever and finally decided to finish it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlywhirls/pseuds/merlywhirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suzuya suggests to Mutsuki the possibility of top surgery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules To Using Knives

The first rule to using knives was to not fear being cut.

Suzuya was the sharpest knife Mutsuki knew, and he felt like he’d been impaled.

They’re quietly perceptive, but even without that, Mutsuki was sure everyone else knew by now too. The auction raid did this funny thing to Mutsuki’s stomach: he felt stronger, more confident, but it also roiled and ate itself at certain thoughts.

There were so many eyes, so many hungry eyes that could see him. That could _see_ him.

His squad’s apparent ignorance just made the paranoia simmer to a boil. Surely, they were talking about it between each other. Behind Mutsuki’s back, in whispers behind hands, scrawled notes on napkins.

He expected Urie to say something. He didn’t say much in the first place, but when he did it was cutting. Mutsuki was breaking the first rule, flinching every time Urie opened his mouth, but there were no lacerations.

It could simply be that they just accepted Mutsuki as he was. The new information didn’t bother them. Or, when Mutsuki was feeling particularly wistful, they just didn’t notice.

But by now it would be impossible not to. Suzuya confirmed it for him.

“You know, the CCG will pay for anything if you convince them it’ll improve your performance.” Their tone was flippant, not unusual, but they fixed Mutsuki with a gaze he couldn’t look away from.

“Like what?” Mutsuki was confused, brain still fuddled with memories, recounts of the raid so he could write it down in a professional report. It was harder than he thought it would be, and Suzuya wasn’t exactly a great paper-work partner. The papers were still strewn around them, sitting on Suzuya’s lounge room floor, the entire couch stacked up with papers and manila folders. Hanbee had installed this system before leaving them to it, but all it had done for Mutsuki so far was give him a sore back.

Suzuya wasn’t even sitting up, hadn’t been sitting up for nearly an hour now, and was also on their fifth lollipop. Mutsuki could never see where they pulled them from, but could hear the popping and clinking as Suzuya swirled it around in their mouth. 

“Well,” they drawled, pulling the lolly out with a _pop_ , “They don’t usually make prosthetics with built-in knives.”

Mutsuki huffed out a quiet laugh. “Guess they don’t. Your idea, then?” Mutsuki paused. “Sir.”

Suzuya nodded vigorously, but arched their back to look over at Mutsuki. They poked out their tongue, dyed bright pink from the lollipop, faced contorted in displeasure. “No formalities, I told you. They’ll do any body mods if you bat your eyes enough.”

Mutsuki looked away, mumbling out an apology and staring blankly at the sheet of paper in his lap.

“I should get back home,” Mutsuki said quietly. The digital clock on Suzuya’s dusty DVD player told him it was nearly eight.

Still staring at him with that unflinching gaze, Suzuya replied, “You can stay over here if it’s easier.” They furrowed their brow, tugging at the stitching on their bottom lip. “I think I have an inflatable mattress somewhere.”

Mutsuki sprang to his feet, the paper on his lap flying off and falling like white feathers, already collecting up his bag and checking that he had all of his possessions. “Really,” he laughed nervously, “It’s fine. Um, do you want some help cleaning this up before I go?”

Suzuya pouted. “You don’t have to go. No point putting this all away, we’re just gonna get it out again tomorrow.” They sighed heavily, turning over onto their stomach and resting their chin in their hands. “You’re just gonna end up here tomorrow. Might as well stay. Oh! It can be like a sleepover!”

They jumped off the floor at that, a broad grin splitting their face as they excitedly waited for Mutsuki’s answer.

Mutsuki didn’t think he had much of a choice. There were a lot of things he could do now, like defend himself and write reports, but there were still things that he couldn’t do, and added onto that list along with cooking lasagna, was disappoint Suzuya.

Mutsuki used to be scared of them, which was an odd thought to him now. Suzuya was kind in their own way, not gentle but always sincere. Mutsuki wasn’t scared of them anymore, but perhaps intimidated, always shrinking in their presence.

The second rule to using knives was to never use a dull blade. Mutsuki thought now he was a little sharper, a little quicker, but placed before Suzuya he felt like a dim glow beside the sun.

Mutsuki was resigning before he knew it, slowly letting his bag slip from his shoulder and nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Suzuya whooped, clapping Mutsuki on the shoulders before disappearing into their tiny kitchen and rummaging through the fridge.

“Hanbee says I don’t really have food that could be considered meals,” they informed him regrettably. “But I have jelly. Do you like jelly? I could probably order pizza,” they added thoughtfully.

“Pizza might be better,” Mutsuki replied.

“Mm.” Suzuya snapped the fridge shut, dancing through their tiny kitchen to pluck the phone from its receiver. “Sasaki might get mad at me if I don’t feed you properly. Then he won’t bring me treats anymore.”

Mutsuki laughed at the honest look of concern on Suzuya’s face as they dialed the number for pizza off by heart and asked if Mutsuki had any preferences.

“Anything’s fine,” he said hurriedly. He could feel the anxiety creeping up his throat, tried hard to listen to Suzuya’s sweet voice on the phone instead of the screeching going on inside his own head. He couldn’t make out specific words, but he was sure Suzuya was ordering something long and elaborate.

“You can have a shower while we wait,” they said when they got off the phone. “I have spare clothes in my room I can get ya.”

“Th-thanks,” Mutsuki stuttered as Suzuya pushed him toward the bathroom. “Something big, please. Biggest thing you own.”

Suzuya practically cackled. “Sure thing, Mucchan.”

The third rule to using knives was to slash away from your body. Mutsuki wasn’t used to being open, to standing out, and he hated the attention. So far, this had been the hardest rule.

The clothes Suzuya left him were, indeed, big. The dress shirt went down to Mutsuki’s knees, and he could fit both his legs into one leg of the pants. He held up the pants with his hands as he shuffled back to the living room to ask Suzuya for a different pair, when he found Suzuya lying shirtless on top of the files, and eating pizza.

They laughed when they saw Mutsuki.

“You did say the biggest thing I own,” they giggled, a string of cheese connecting their mouth to the slice of pizza in their hand.

Mutsuki’s lips pinched. He took in a deep breath, and let go of the pants.

He was still entirely covered down to his knees, but he still felt so incredibly exposed. Suzuya didn’t bat an eyelid, grabbing another slice of pizza as Mutsuki approached.

“Shouldn’t we eat somewhere that’s… not on the reports?”

“It takes up the whole floor,” Suzuya whined. “There was no where else.”

Mutsuki took the piles off the couch, careful when bending over to put them on the floor. He cleared the couch off and plopped himself on the edge, reaching over to grab a slice of pizza for himself. Suzuya picked themselves up and threw themselves next to Mutsuki, half leaning on him as he continued to eat.

“Next time you have to check your RC levels,” Suzuya said with their mouthful, “You should mention it to your doctor.”

Mutsuki furrowed his brow. “Mention what?”

Suzuya did this sometimes, continuing old conversations as if time hadn’t passed without giving an explanation. Mutsuki was sure he knew what Suzuya was talking about this time, but he decided to play ignorant. He didn’t want to have this conversation, even if it was with Suzuya.

Suzuya looked up at him, their blood rusted eyes honest and clear. “Restraining any part of your body while you do strenuous activity is going to cause damage.”

Mutsuki looked away, suddenly not hungry.

“Especially if you’re restraining your chest,” they continued, “Because then your lungs will get all messed up. And your ribs!” Suzuya poked their own ribs, drawing Mutsuki’s attention back. “Wearing corsets when I was younger changed the shape of my ribs. It’s not so bad, but you would probably feel the pain and discomfort.”

Suzuya’s skin was nearly transparent, the blue veins beneath their skin like river trails on a map. It bulged and puckered in places where white-hot scars marked their skin, an unorganized spray of lightning nicks.

Mutsuki cleared his throat, still staring at Suzuya’s defined ribcage so he didn’t have to look them in the eye as he asked, “Would the CCG really let me?”

Suzuya jumped up on their knees, facing Mutsuki and shaking him excitedly. “’Course they would! And if they didn’t,” their voice dropped seriously, forcing Mutsuki to look them in the eye, “Then you tell me and I’ll make them.”

The fourth rule to using knives was to always expect blood. Mutsuki felt it rush to his cheeks and thrum through his chest in excitement.

Suzuya still hadn’t looked away. They waited for him to reply.

“Okay,” Mutsuki said, a small smile spreading on his face. “I – yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

Suzuya smiled back and pinched Mutsuki’s cheeks. Mutsuki squealed and sunk into the couch, giggling as Suzuya chased him down until Mutsuki was lying on his back, Suzuya between his legs and still pinching.

“You’re so cute, Tooru,” Suzuya cooed as Mutsuki swatted their hands away.

“Am not,” he protested, trying to tickle Suzuya under the arms, without luck.

“Are too,” Suzuya persisted. They grabbed his hands and pinned them to his stomach. “Sorry, but I’m not ticklish.”

Mutsuki stopped struggling, pouting up at Suzuya who looked down on him with a devilish grin. “That’s not fair.”

He felt the hem of his shirt slip up his thighs and bunch around his waist. Mutsuki felt the panic start to come back, but when he looked at Suzuya he didn’t see that usual look that Mutsuki was so afraid of; there was nothing in Suzuya that made Mutsuki feel like he was in danger, like he was something to be had or consumed.

Suzuya cocked their head, watching Mutsuki fight down his anxiety with calm patience.

Patience. Mutsuki wasn’t used to that either.

The fifth and final rule to using knives was to never deliberately deal a shallow cut. If you fight with a knife, you don’t hold back.

Mutsuki tilted his head up, waiting for a response from Suzuya. They lowered, meeting Mustuki half way in a gentle, closed mouth kiss, only lasting a few seconds.

Maybe everyone knew. Mutsuki tried to breathe at the thought, found the air coming out slowly eventually. He smiled at Suzuya, and they smiled back.

Maybe everyone knew, but it wasn’t any of their business. Maybe everyone could see him at the raid, but soon there would be nothing to look at.

Suzuya had taught him how to use knives, and Mutsuki wasn’t going to waste those skills.

**Author's Note:**

> i need more suzumutsu. i need more agender juuzou. i need more juuzou. i need more mutsuki. and they both need more love. i love my trans kids.


End file.
